May 20, 2013 by allsho
It’s when he realized that the week was almost over and I had no intention keep our thing going any longer, that he started trying.
Well I imagine it’s normal. He really liked me. And I liked him too. He only asked once about our future, and as I left his question unanswered, he never raised it again.
Smart and cute. I was lucky, this time: I don’t always find someone this pleasant to spend my holidays with. A Greek, a local on a holiday.
So I think it’s after I didn’t answer that he felt he wanted a picture of me.
Now this is something I don’t let my close friends do. No, darling, just because you’re good company night and day doesn’t mean you can get my photo, sorry.
Did I ask for yours? Did I ask for your address? Did I ask anything at all about you? We’ll never really know whom we spent our week with, after all, and we’ll remember each other, perhaps, by what memories will be able to survive.
So at his third attempt, I grabbed his camera and kept it.
I promise, I said, I promise you’ll get a photograph of my face, of what you know of it.
When we embraced for the last time in Mycenae, I was heading to Patras, ferry, home; he was going to Athens and his life. I returned his camera.
I had, somehow, kept my promise.